Date Three
by hotchityhotchhotch
Summary: Oneshot. Sequel to Dates One and Two. In celebration of National Kissing Day. COMPLETE.


**A/N: Happy Belated National Kissing Day! Enjoy this long-awaited sequel to "Dates One and Two."**

Emily hadn't expected a kiss when Hotch had picked her up for dinner. She hadn't expected a kiss when, after a meal that did _not_ contain undercooked meat, thank you very much, he had suggested they get ice cream somewhere. She hadn't even expected a kiss when they'd gotten close enough to take a bite from one another's sundaes. They'd even fed each other.

But when Hotch walked her all the way back up to her apartment, ignored her telltale fiddling of her keys that screamed "Kiss me!", and simply hugged her and left a peck on her cheek, her heart sank more than a little. She softly repeated his goodnight and used her keys for their intended purpose, letting herself into her apartment. She then rolled her eyes at her own impatience. The date had gone as well as a date could realistically go. Although for a long time, she'd considered herself rather comfortable with Hotch, she had grown even more so tonight. He'd even held her hand on the walk from the restaurant to the ice cream parlor and back. She reminded herself how intimate hand-holding was. Even more intimate than a kiss sometimes. Certainly, other couples holding hands warmed her greenish heart more often than seeing other couples kissing.

He'd held her hand. He'd fed her ice cream. Why was she so hung up on a kiss? It was only the third date.

She knew precisely why she worried, though. At the end of their second date—which had fallen immediately after their first, which had unfortunately involved vomit—Hotch had told her he would kiss her on their third date. The paranoid single forty-something in her couldn't help but wonder if she'd done something to turn him off. If all the buildup to this—the dates she felt could lead to the future of which she'd dreamt for ages—was for nothing.

She heard a cat meowing at her feet, weaving between them. "Hey, Serg," she said, stepping out of the heels she'd never gotten to kick in the air behind her like in an old movie. She squatted down and stroked the top of her black cat's head. "You still haven't met Hotch, have you? You were shy when he was over last week."

Sergio looked at her oddly, if a cat could do such a thing. She made sure the blinds were shut and shed her patterned wrap dress on the way to her bedroom. "You'd kiss me on the third date, right, baby?" she asked her faithful companion.

Sergio answered by lying down on the floor by her feet and lifting a hind leg to lick underneath it.

"Ugh. Typical man," she muttered. She slipped into her usual sweats and a tank top before snatching up her friend and taking him into the living room with her. "I think it's time for a second helping of ice cream. What do you think? I'll even let you lick the spoon when I'm done."

Sergio purred as he watched his owner dig into the freezer. Their heads both snapped toward the door when they heard a knock. Emily crept to the peephole and saw Hotch on the other side. "Uh, hey, Hotch. Hang on one second." She rushed, quiet and catlike, to her bedroom while Sergio kept watch. In half a minute, she was changed back into her dress. It was pathetic, she knew, but date number three was too soon for Hotch to be seeing her in her pajamas. "Hey, sorry," she said when she opened up for Hotch, "Sergio shredded a roll of toilet paper while I was gone. I was in the middle of cleaning it up." She swore she could hear her cat purring menacingly at being used to gain the affections of another man.

"Right." Hotch read right through her lie and made no attempts at covering it up. But Emily had more important things to worry about when she noticed the bouquet of daffodils in Hotch's hands and the fact that he seemed out of breath. "I…forgot to give you these earlier. They were in the backseat of my car and it completely slipped my mind."

"Oh," Emily said, holding out a hand when Hotch proffered the flowers. "You didn't have to go back for them."

"I did," Hotch insisted.

Emily stuck her nose in the flowers and breathed them in, smiling. "Well, thank you. They're gorgeous. But really, you didn't have to bring them back up."

Before she knew what was happening, Hotch had taken the flowers from her and lain them on the kitchen counter, and his nose was almost touching hers. She almost gasped a little when he veered off to the side a little and his thumb brushed along her burning cheek.

The unexpectedness of the kiss made up quite a bit of its magic. Hotch stayed true to his gentlemanly self, keeping the kiss rather chaste, namely keeping his tongue in his own mouth. Still, his lips remained pressed to hers long enough for her to remember to bend one knee and stick a foot up behind her. She was beaming the second they separated.

"I couldn't kiss you before I gave you the flowers," he explained with a faint laugh.

"Where on earth do you come up with all these little rules?" Emily marveled.

"It keeps me in check," Hotch said, kissing her once more while he was near. She giggled into this kiss, hoping her laughter did as much to him as his hands and mouth did to her.

"Are you normally an animal or something?" Emily asked.

"I have been known to, uh…slip in some tongue on date four, which is far too soon."

"Oh yeah? When's that permissible? Date ten?"

"Hey," Hotch said, holding up a finger. "Be nice. I fed you ice cream."

Emily relented and smiled. "That you did. Date nine, is it?"

"Date five, if you must know. But I'd rather my other rules be surprises. I could tell you were getting antsy tonight. I should never have spilled about my third date rule last week. It spoiled the evening."

Emily shook her head hastily. "No, no, it didn't. I wasn't worried until when you dropped me off, and still, I had a great time. Can I ask you about…one more rule? One you've probably already broken?"

"Sure," Hotch said.

"When do you normally let a woman take your tie off for you?"

"Only after I stop counting dates," Hotch said. "Which is also when I might…you know…"

"Well," Emily said, leading Hotch to the couch, not even asking him if he wanted to stay for a movie, "you broke the tie rule _really_ early. And I _really_…would like to make out with you. Tonight. Call me impatient. But do you think we could break that rule, too?"

"I have the feeling I'm going to be breaking a lot of rules with you," Hotch said with a dark playfulness, holding out his hand and sitting down with her. "You don't need to put in a movie to get me in the mood, you know."

"Oh, good. That would've taken too long." Emily let out a soft moan against Hotch's next kiss, which came with politely wandering hands and, eventually, a little tongue. "One more question," Emily said, walking her fingers through Hotch's hair before he closed in on her lips again.

"Hmm?"

"Just out of curiosity, after how many dates do you stop counting?"

**A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Please leave a review, anonymous or not, long or short. I'd love to hear your thoughts!**

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